HMS Resolute Victory

1.09

The first mate was a slightly eccentric man in his late 30s, Sarah guessed he was a similar age to the captain. His name was Symon, pronounced Simon, and he had what Sarah presumed to be a Russian accent. He was a couple of inches shorter than Captain Braddox who must’ve been 6ft, he wore a brown waistcoat and a white shirt with not a smudge on it, unlike his trousers and shoes which looked as if they had been through a war or two. He wore gold rimmed glasses, his whole appearance seemed antiquated like a man out of time.

“Excuse me a moment. My spectacles require some small cleaning.” Symon said to Sarah whilst removing his glasses.

He polished the glass lightly with a small piece of cloth which was on his busy table filled with papers, a fountain pen and blotting paper.

This dude uses blotting paper, I didn’t think anyone younger than my grandad even knew about that stuff. Sarah mused while the first mate adjusted his glasses back onto his face.

“So, that wraps up the health and safety training. Now we shall perform a practical exercise, yes? We go to the deck and learn about survival.” Symon stood.

“Oh a practical, do I need to get changed?” Sarah was still wearing her clothes she’d arrived in, a light yellow shirt and a black skirt, she didn’t mind about ruining the skirt as she had more, but the shirt she’d bought herself and it wasn’t cheap.

“What you’re in will be fine.” Replied Symon and then added “as long as you don’t fail the practical, yes? Haha!”

As they walked up to the deck Sarah pondered:

I should ask him where he’s from originally. All we’ve really talked about is work, it would be nice to get to know everyone a bit better. But would it be offensive to ask that?

“Are you Russian?” Sarah blurted out and quickly added “My dad went to work there for a week a couple of years ago, he said it was a beautiful country.”

“No, I am from Ukraine. I lived in Odessa until the age of six. Then I moved to England. That’s why I speak such fluent English, no?”

“Oh.” Sarah didn’t know what else to say to this.

On the deck there were two men hoisting rope nets up and repairing some sections. Sarah could only see their backs, but she imagined they were quite muscular and masculine if their backs were anything to go by. Although Sarah didn’t usually find sporty lads were here type there was something about these two that made her feel they were different. Following Symon to the rear of the deck where she couldn’t see the two men.

I’m sure to get to see their faces soon enough, we are all stuck on a ship together.

Interrupting her thoughts she heard someone shouting loud from the far side of the deck, where the two men were.

“Der'mo!”

What? Is the entire crew Ukrainian? I didn’t think I’d need a pocket translator. This is going to be really hard.

“Don’t mind the swearing. Boys will be boys, eh?” Symon said.

He was now holding a small oxygen tank which looked many decades old.

“I want you to jump in the sea. Breathe from this tank, you know? To practice. And I will throw a lifeline to you, which you should catch and I’ll haul you back up here. Begin!”